More Than Right
by sablecain
Summary: A very belated Christmas Story/Gift for Violette. Ezra has to spend Christmas Eve away from the team and things don't go right...
1. Chapter 1

Deftly fastening his tactical vest and double checking his weapon, Ezra sighed softly as he listened to the final briefing for the bust. He caught the dirty look from Wilson and knew he hadn't been quiet enough.

"We boring you, Standish?" the FBI Special Agent in Charge demanded.

All eyes suddenly focused on Ezra.

Refusing to be intimidated by the hostile scrutiny, Standish didn't flinch. "No, Sir."

Wilson's dark eyes narrowed, obviously expecting a more sarcastic response from the Southerner, but Ezra didn't rise to the bait. After a long, drawn out pause and several scowls, Wilson went back to detailing the plan.

"Owens, you'll go in here," he tapped the map with a stubby cigar stained finger. "Take Mills with you."

Ezra relaxed a fraction as everyone's attention turned to the map and away from him.

What a way to spend Christmas Eve.

He shouldn't have been surprised the day before when A.D. Travis had summoned him upstairs to his office, but being suddenly called back to the FBI for a two day case was unexpected.

Travis had been apologetic, knowing Standish had planned on joining the rest of ATF Team 7 at Chris Larabee's ranch for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day festivities, but Standish knew the A.D's hands were tied.

Technically, he still belonged to the FBI and there were still a few agents who enjoyed yanking him around just enough to make sure he didn't forget it.

Discovering the SAC was Don Wilson and the case was a fairly routine kiddie porn bust just confirmed his suspicions. He was being reminded of his place…and his past.

Ezra controlled the urge to sigh again. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the consequences. He focused instead on the plan. He already had it memorized and this was the fourth time Wilson was going over it, but not knowing this unit like he did his own team, Ezra was wary about trusting anyone to step up and watch his back. He'd take care of himself—he would have to, he acknowledged the first time Wilson told him he'd being going in from the far side entrance of the large two story house…alone.

"We ready?" Wilson questioned. "Good," he continued before anyone could answer. Confident the group knew what to do. "Be ready on my call."

Jostled in the cramped tactical van, Ezra was shoved aside by the others and forced to exit last. He didn't bother with the posturing and ignored them all. He was the outsider again. He was back to being the rumored dirty agent, the untrustworthy one. It rankled that nothing he had done since transferring to the ATF seemed to matter, but he pushed the resentment and anger aside and focused on the job.

Stepping out of the van, Ezra was instantly soaked. Unseasonably warm weather had hit the region immediately after days of snow. Now, heavy rain mixed with melting snow to turn everything into a soupy cold mess of mud and slush.

Standish shivered as the cold seeped into his boots despite their weather proofing. His feet may be staying dry but they were far from warm.

Around him the FBI team moved out in small groups, hurrying into position. After a quick radio check and slightly delayed confirmation, Ezra slipped into position and waited for the 'go'.

* * *

The door to the ranch house banged open as Buck and JD dashed inside, soaking wet.

"Geez, it's coming down out there," JD exclaimed as he worked on getting his mud-caked sneakers loose enough to kick off. "It doesn't feel like Christmas."

"Just cold enough to be miserable," Vin tossed him a towel from the pile Chris had left just inside the door.

"Rather have snow," Chris nodded a greeting as he took a sodden bag of groceries from Buck.

"We all here?" Buck asked. He copied JD with his shoes and awkwardly hopped forward to avoid stepping in any mess in his sock feet.

" 'cept Ezra." Vin steadied the big man. "Nate and Josiah are in the kitchen."

"Josiah making chili?" JD's eyes widened.

"What else does he know how to make?" Chris chuckled.

"You hear from Ezra at all since this morning?" Vin watched Larabee as he handed the food back to Buck and shoved the ladies' man toward the kitchen, JD following.

Chris turned to Tanner, looking serious now. "No, not since he left." He glanced out the window, watching the pouring rain. "He said Maude's flight was arriving early this afternoon." His gaze was pulled to Tanner as Vin moved through the family room and sat on the stone hearth in front of the fire.

"And he didn't think he could talk her into coming out here?" Vin tossed another log onto the glowing flames, leaning back as sparks flew.

Chris huffed and moved casually to his bar, grabbing a couple of bottles of beer from the small fridge there. "I don't think Maude is the type to be talked into much of anything." He popped the tops and handed one to Vin. "Said she'd already made reservations at some swanky joint."

Tanner sighed as he accepted the beer and took a long sip.

Larabee waited, sensing Vin had more to say.

"He should be here." Vin met his gaze. "Don't feel right."

Chris just turned back to watching the rain. Laughter erupted from the kitchen but he couldn't shake the feeling he shared with Vin. Something didn't feel right without Ezra there with them.

* * *

Ezra slipped in the mud and went down on one knee, but recovered instantly as shouts of "FBI!" rang through his earpiece.

Quickly and efficiently he took out the back door with one kick, his weapon ready. "FBI!" He yelled as he entered the side room and made his way through a narrow hallway that he knew opened into a kitchen. He could hear the banging and clomping of the rest of the team as they stormed the front and back and up the stairs. Fully expecting to encounter any of their targets coming for his exit, he pulled up short as he entered the stiflingly warm room.

His eyes scanned the kichen in disbelief, taking in the stacks of empty take out containers, dirty dishes and trash littering the counters, but it was the chemicals that caught his attention and caused him to suck in a sharp breath. It was a lab. A scrawny kid bolted for the other door, leaving a lit burner sparking in the corner where it'd been knocked over. Crashes and shouts filled the small house as Ezra's vision zeroed in on the small flame igniting next to the open containers of chemicals.

"GET OUT!" he screamed over the radio as he moved forward to try and smother the flames. "It's a lab! Get out now! GET OUT!" He searched for a towel or anything to swat the growing flames, but saw nothing. He watched in horror as a puddle of something clear caught and flames trailed across the cluttered table. He was out of time.

With one last "GET OUT!" Ezra turned and hurried back the way he'd come. He'd just made it into the narrow hallway when he heard a small pop and then the world exploded around him.


	2. Chapter 2

_I forgot to mention a few things in part one--_

_1. It's been SO long since I've posted anything let alone M7--forgive my forgetfulness about how things are done. I'm trying to remember and figure it out. (yes I'm completely terrified)  
_

_2. This is for Vi. For Christmas, she requested a M7 story with something Christmas oriented and the other must have-- an Explosion!_

_3. Thank you so much to NT for betaing. Any mistakes you find--all mine!_

_4. Story is complete, just being posted in parts. _

_

* * *

  
_

Ezra woke in a panic. His mouth and nose full, he couldn't breathe. Gagging, choking, spitting, he struggled to clear his airway even as the realization struck... he couldn't move.

Coughing up mud and swiping his face against the arm pinned under his face, he managed to get a breath of air. Gasping, he began to calm down, trying to get a grip and figure out what had happened and where he was.

The bust. The house; it'd been a meth lab. He'd been almost to the back door when it'd exploded and now he was guessing he must have been thrown just far enough to get him outside because he was lying in mud.

It was everywhere. He could feel it ooze up around his body-- icy cold and mixed with slushy melting snow. Blinking, he tried to see anything in the brutal darkness, but there was nothing. Breathing was easier now as he adjusted to the bitter taste in his mouth and managed to clear his nose. Taking a slow deep breath, he concentrated on the rest of his body for a moment. It felt like most of the house had come down on top of him.

His lungs burned, but now that his mouth and nose were somewhat clear…he could breathe. His left arm was stretched out as if he had raised his hand to answer a question in school. He was able to rest his forehead in the crook of his mud-covered elbow. His fingers clawed at mud and wood and other materials that he couldn't identify by touch. His right arm was twisted and caught beneath his torso. When he tried to rise up to pull it free of his body's weight, fire erupted through his side and lower back. He groaned at the pain. He was pinned.

Carefully, Ezra tested his legs. He could barely feel them through the numbing cold, but he managed to shift each one slightly in the rubble. His legs were free. All he had to do was move whatever was pinning him tothe soft wet ground fromoff his back, and he could work on getting out of there.

Taking another deep preparatory breath, Ezra used his left arm to push upwards, trying to arch his back against the pain and push whatever lay on top of him off. The pain was too much this time. It spiked through him, exploding in his back and spiraling up and down his right side as a scream echoed through the dark and he passed out.

* * *

"That chili done yet?" Buck griped as he picked up the remote and began to flip through the channels.

"It takes time to reach the perfect level of heat." Josiah grinned as he wiped his hands on a dish towel and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.

"Buck!" JD interrupted. "Pick a channel already or check the guide!" he protested as Wilmington flipped rapidly through the channels.

Buck paused, leaving the station where it was. "What? I'm trying to find something to watch."

"You're not even looking at the screen!"

"Shut up." Chris' command cut through the half hearted argument as everyone focused on the screen and the announcer's voice.

"We're on location here on the corner of Birmingham where an FBI bust has gone wrong. The house that was the target of the bust has exploded and reports have come in that,even though most of the agents made it out of the building unscathed, one agent was caught in the blast and has yet to be recovered from the rubble."

The camera zoomed in on the scene showing an older two story building, the entire right side of which had fallen in. The roof was blown off,but the rest of the second story had come down in a pile, the whole building tilted to the right as if it was ready to fall on over at any second.

"Good, god, there's a guy under all that?" Nathan appeared out of the kitchen and moved closer to the group watching TV.

Vin leaned forward on the couch. He rubbed absently at his chest as he exchanged a look with Chris. "Didn't know the FBI were working any cases tonight," he murmured.

The phone rang, making everyone flinch before turning back to the screen as the reporter on the scene came back into view and began giving more details about the unexpected meth lab.

"Hello," Chris answered and moved toward the back of the room, avoiding the distraction of the TV. "Hey, Judge," he greeted.

"Chris." The whole tone of Travis' voice said it all.

"What is it?" Chris knew immediately something was wrong. Was it Mary? Billy?

"You've seen the news?"

Chris turned back toward the TV. "Just now, yeah. Why? What's going on Judge?"

"Chris." Travis' voice seemed to break a little bit. "It's Ezra."

"What?" The entire room seemed to freeze. Chris knew the others were watching him now. "What the hell do you mean, 'it's Ezra'?"

Vin was on his feet, the others following. Chriswas suddenly surrounded, but no one spoke as he listened to Travis fill him in.

"We're on our way." Even as he hung up, the others were gathering their coats.

Vin moved close. "Tell us."

"Ezra got called back to work with the FBI this week. He's the agent," he waved towards the TV, unable to find the words. Various scenarios ran through his head even as he watched the reporter. He focused on the pile of rubble, knowing now that Ezra was trapped under there somewhere. Was he alive? Was he burnt? The building wasn't burning, but if he'd been caught in the explosion…was he pinned?

"Chris?" Vin handed his coat to him.

Something clicked inside Chris, pushing away the fear and cementing the anger.

He grabbed the jacket and his keys off the side table. "Let's go get Ezra out of there."


	3. Chapter 3

_thanks so much for the encouraging reviews! _

_Another rather important author's note that I totally forgot: the concept for this story was inspired by a 'The Sentinel' Jim/Blair story called "One is the Loneliest Number" written by Alyjude. I did run this by her before going ahead with this story because though this IS quite different, her story spurred the idea on and she was kind enough to let me borrow a little from it. (It's a great story btw, I recommend anything of hers)_

* * *

The scene was one of organized chaos when Chris and Vin arrived. Larabee parked the truck haphazardly next to a fire engine and jumped out, ignoring the call from Vin or the sound of Josiah slamming his brakes to miss hitting him.

Despite the rain, people were everywhere. Firefighters still doused areas of the smoldering wreckage of the house while others coordinated with both the local police and FBI agents to hold the growing crowds of curious onlookers back a safe distance.

Ignoring the local officer trying to explain the boundaries, Chris ducked under the sagging yellow perimeter tape and scanned the scene. He spotted a small group around a cruiser and immediately recognized the agent in charge.

Rage burned deep as he realized who had pulled Ezra away from his family on Christmas Eve and put him in this position.

Don Wilson had had it in for Standish for years. Ever since Ezra had arrived in Denver, Wilson had gone out of his way to remind Standish and anyone within hearing distance of the Atlanta fiasco. That Ezra was a rumored dirty agent. And even though there'd never been any irrefutable proof of anything underhanded on Ezra's part, or the years of service in which Standish had proven himself on Team 7—Wilson was one of the agents who continued to paint Ezra with the same tainted brush, time after time.

Now, Wilson sat on the hood of the cruiser while another agent held an umbrella above him and a paramedic worked on bandaging a cut above his right eye. He looked up in time to see Chris coming at him and shot off the hood, pushing the medic away. "Larabee." He held both hands up in front of himself, half in surrender, half in defense. "I know. I know."

Chris grabbed the shaken agent by his jacket and pulled him close. "This is on you, Wilson." He hissed between clinched teeth. "You couldn't leave him alone, could you? You had to drag him into your crap. You had to punish him, yet again, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?" He shook the agent ignoring the roar around him. The paramedic pulling on one arm, the other agent, umbrella abandoned, trying to pry his grip off of Wilson.

"Yes!" Wilson yelled back, not bothering to protect himself. "I know. It was my fault!"

Stunned by the agreement, Chris shoved Wilson back onto the hood. Wilson breathed heavily and waved the other concerned agents away. He swatted the paramedic back as well. "I'm fine," he muttered.

After a moment to catch his breath, Wilson looked up at Chris. "Standish saved my team." His voice shook as he admitted the truth. "I never thought he…It wasn't right. I should have known but I didn't want to believe…"

"I've been telling you he's ok, for years." Chris sagged suddenly, his anger leaching out of him as he turned and looked again at the devastated house. Rain ran down his face and dripped from his soaked hair. "What happened?"

Wilson shook his head, "We were busting a kiddie porn ring. Had a tip that this was a hot spot for production but when we went in…" he sighed heavily and rubbed at his bandaged forehead. "Standish was on his own at the side entrance." He flinched as Chris' glare settled on him, knowing he'd been wrong to leave Ezra without backup.

"We'd no more than entered the premises when he was shouting to get out. I heard him shout that it was a lab, get out and then everything exploded. We barely got clear…two of my guys got caught in the blast but should recover. The whole explosion centered where Standish was though. I don't know…" He faded, not wanting to say what he feared.

"Sir," another agent interrupted. "We've reestablished the radio hook up."

"You've got Ezra?" Chris demanded.

"We've got his radio."

Following Wilson and the other agent towards the com van, Vin fell in step beside Larabee. "Thought you were gonna hit him," he commented calmly.

They stopped and looked at the wreckage. Josiah, Buck and JD were already with the crew of rescuers, ready and waiting to go in. Nathan was questioning one of the on scene paramedics. "I still might," Chris admitted, his fear resurfacing.

Ezra was still under that mess, and somehow they needed to find him.

* * *

Ezra came to slowly the second time. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious but he didn't think it'd been very long.

His body trembled uncontrollably now, either from the cold or shock, he wasn't sure which. His fingers ached and, when he tried to flex them, were stiff and slow to respond.

It was easier to breathe now, especially since he could, at least, remember to keep his face turned and his head resting on his arm, up and out of the mud. He tried not to think about the fact that the mud felt deeper, as if it was slowly oozing up around him and instead tried to concentrate on anything else.

A possible rescue? Had Wilson and the other agents made it out of the house safely? Someone had to be on scene by now. There'd been more agents in the communications van, after all. Someone had to be cleaning up the mess…looking for them…for him. Chris would make sure of it.

But Chris wasn't here. The thought hit him like a physical blow. Chris and the rest of the team were enjoying Christmas Eve festivities while believing that he was safely ensconced at some fancy restaurant, having dinner with Maude.

"Chris is gonna kill me," he muttered sluggishly, knowing that when Larabee discovered his lie, the team leader would be furious. Ezra knew that he should have told Larabee the truth about getting called back to work with Wilson, but he hadn't wanted to screw up everyone's Christmas. He knew his team well enough to know that they'd give up their own plans to fight for him and it wouldn't have been right for them to be miserable just because he was going to be.

"Lot of good that thinking did." Now how would they feel? When would they get the news? Tonight? Tomorrow. "Merry freaking Christmas," he slurred.

Shaking violently now, Ezra strained to hear any sounds of rescue,but it was like the world had disappeared around him. All that was left was him in a cold, dark, muddy hole.

He tried to think of some place warm. Of Atlanta at Christmas or better yet—Atlanta in August, when the sun burned so hot and the humidity crept so high that just stepping outside from an air conditioned car or building could literally take your breath away. Ezra smiled at the memory for a moment before he was picturing Larabee's living room with the giant stone fireplace. He could always find warmth there. He could imagine the warmth of the flames as he warmed his hands while in the background his teammates joked.

God, he wished he was there. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting, thinking about the ranch. He felt so weary. So so tired. If he could just sleep for a little while and then try one more time to crawl out of this mess…maybe he could still make it to the ranch.

Ezra's teeth clattered together painfully and he blinked open his eyes again. "Need to stay awake," he realized out loud. Nathan's voice seemed to ring in his ears. It made him think of the radio he had been wearing but he couldn't hear anyone—not even static. He wasn't sure he still wore the radio and he couldn't move his arms to check it. He was simply stuck with nothing but his own voice to keep him alert.

"Sad commentary for Christmas Eve," he admitted but thinking about it he smiled tiredly. "Face it, Standish. Christmas is just not the holiday for you."


	4. Chapter 4

The communications van was already crowded with agents when Wilson climbed in, followed by Chris and Vin.

"You and you." Wilson pointed. "Make room."

The two agents moved quickly, not questioning the order.

Chris moved further into the van. "You have Ezra?" He directed his question to the two agents sitting at the sound monitors.

"We've got Standish's radio," the dark haired one answered, looking at Wilson instead of the ATF agents. He seemed to cringe in his seat as Chris leaned closer. "We've tried to contact him,but believe he's lost the transmitter itself. Somehow though, it's still picking up his voice."

"Meaning?" Wilson asked.

"We can hear him, but he can't hear us," the other agent with light red hair cut in.

"He say anything yet? Is he conscious?" Vin asked quietly.

"It's hard to hear him, but he is conscious for now. His words are slurring together."

"What's he said?"

The two agents exchanged wary looks.

"Agents?" Wilson prodded, swiping absently at his nearly bald head.

"He said that agent Larabee was gonna kill him."

Despite the FBI agent's apprehension, Chris found himself smiling. He exchanged a look of humor with Vin. Ezra was awake under that house.

"Can you pinpoint his location?" Chris questioned.

The redhead shook his head. "No, the signal's not strong enough."

"What about thermal imaging?" Wilson proposed, but one of the agents standing near the front of the van cleared his throat, interrupting.

"We don't have the equipment here, we'd have to call in a chopper…"

"Do it then," Wilson commanded. "Then let's get the fire chief in here so we can…"

A static burst silenced the group and drew all eyes to the monitors.

"_Need to stay awake."_

Chris and Vin both stepped closer to the monitors. Ezra sounded weak and,as relieved as they were to hear his voice, the slurred accent gave away what rough shape Standish was in.

"_Sad commentary for Christmas Eve." _

They listened.

_"__Face it, Standish, Christmas is just not the holiday for you." _

Chris closed his eyes at those words. Ezra had opened up enough over the last few years for them all to know what the southerner was referring to. Too many Christmases with strangers, too many alone.

"Damn it, Ez." Vin's whisper pulled Chris back to the current situation.

"I want one of my men listening at all times."

"You got it." Wilson gestured to the dark haired man at the controls. "Butch, call a chopper for the thermal and dig up a parabolic mic. If he's talking or moving at all, that might help us find exactly where he is."

Larabee left Vin in the van while he stepped out with Wilson. The rain had finally stopped, but he could already tell that the temperature was falling quickly back to itsseasonal norm.

The scene still looked like chaos as they approached, and a larger crowd had grown beyond the yellow tape. More news vans had joined the first few on the scene and reporters shouted questions at them as they headed toward Buck and JD and the fire chief. From the looks on his men's faces, Chris could tell that Buck and JD had already been arguing with the fire chief about the search.

"We can't just stand around here with our thumbs up our ass while he's under all that!" Buck shouted at the man but the Chief wasn't budging.

"That house is nothing more than a giant game of pick up sticks right now." The fire chief waved at his men. "If I send them or you in there, the whole thing will come down the rest of the way. If you want to save your friend, you'll back off and stay the hell out of my way!"

"You…"

"Buck." Chris stepped in front of Wilmington and faced the Chief. "I'm Agent Larabee, ATF. It's my man under that mess. We'll wait for your instructions, but we are going to be there beside you when you go in for him."

"Fine." The Chief's eyes flashed with both anger and understanding. "Just sit tight. I promise, we're doing our best."

Wilson followed the Chief, both already discussing the tactics they were taking to find Ezra while Chris pulled Buck and JD to the side. He caught sight of Josiah and Nathan and motioned them over as well.

"He's alive," he told them first.

"We know that or are we hoping?" Nathan questioned.

"Heard him myself."

"Oh thank god." Josiah closed his eyes and seemed immediately to breathe easier.

"How'd you hear him?" JD asked.

"We can hear him over his radio, but he can't seem to hear us, something…"

JD was already nodding. "Probably the.." His voice faded as Chris went on.

"They're calling in a helicopter with thermal imaging to try to find him as well asusing a parabolic mic." He made eye contact with each man. "We can't get him out of there until we know exactly where he is."

Wilmington's shoulders slumped in resignation.

"How'd he sound?" Jackson asked. "Is he hurt?"

Chris hesitated. "I don't know. He sounds real weak…like if we tried to get him to call out, we'd never hear him. He's talking to himself right now, said he needed to stay awake. My guess, yeah, he's hurt. I just don't know how bad."

"Hypothermia alone," Jackson looked at the house. "How can he not be hurt?"

"Cowboy."

Chris turned, surprised to see Vin beside him. "I wanted you to keep listening."

Vin held up a pair of radios. "Butch hooked us up." He handed one to Chris. "Only has two extra right now. Losta bunch in the explosion,but I think you need to be hearing this." He handed the other radio to Nathan. "And maybe you can suss out just what condition he's really in."

Chris hurriedly put the radio on. "JD,you get in the com van. See what you can do to help them narrow down Ezra's location.

He paused and listened, his eyes meeting Nathan's. Ezra was talking again.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much for the continued & encouraging reviews. It means a lot. Just one part this morning. _

* * *

"I should have told Chris." Ezra clawed at the soupy mud, trying to loosen the stiffness in his fingers. At least the trembling had stopped. It was now replaced by the occasional, all consuming shudder.

He gasped as another convulsion ripped through him. "That can't be good," he murmured through the pain as he tried to make sense of his thoughts. It was so hard to think. He'd been concentrating on something important, hadn't he?

Chris. He should have told the team where he was.

"They don't know. They think I'm with Maude." Huffing, Ezra squinted in the darkness, wishing for any light, any brightness to break the weight of it. Why was darkness heavy? Could it really be heavy? Maybe he was just feeling the weight of the house.

"I've got a god damned house on top of me."

He laughed a little. What was wrong with him?

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he repeated the question, sluggishly.

His thought again of his team. What were they going to say when Travis called them? Would they wonder why he'd lied to them? Other than not wanting to create havoc on Christmas…he hadn't really wanted to admit the truth. It wasn't that he didn't think the guys would be supportive, he knew they would, but there would have been sympathy in their eyes, too. And pity that he didn't want to see. It just wasn't right. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Maude didn't want to come."

* * *

"Shit."

Outside, Chris closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"Damn it."

"Chris?"

Larabee opened his eyes to find Josiah standing in front of him, concern written over his face.

"He's hanging in there," Chris reassured.

"What's wrong then?"

Chris felt other eyes on him and turned to include Vin and Buck in the conversation as well. "He's weak," he admitted. "And, he said Maude didn't want to come."

"Meaning?" Buck's eyes continued to follow JD as the young agent slowly swept the wreckage, aiming the parabolic microphone at it. He saw Dunne glance their way.

"He must have asked her to come for Christmas." Josiah rubbed the back of his neck while Vin glanced at the ground.

Chris nodded. "He's wondering what's wrong with him."

The faint sound of the approaching helicopter had them all looking up and squinting into the overcast sky.

"Guys." JD's excited voice pulled their attention back to the wreckage. "I think I've found him."

* * *

It had been silent save for his own ramblings for so long that Ezra was certain he must have drifted to sleep. Was he dreaming?

The ground beneath him seemed to tremble in rhythm with the strange, muffled noise. He knew he should know what it was.

"I should know this," he whispered, but he didn't care. What he did know was that the sound meant that someone was out there and they were looking for him.

Then, it seemed, as suddenly as the sound arrived, it faded away again. The ground and the boards around him stopped rumbling.

"No! I'm here."

The silence was deafening now. He could no longer feel his body. The aching cold had faded.

"Tired."

He knew there was something about being tired that he was supposed to remember, but he didn't have it in him to recall it. A sense of hopelessness pressed down on him. A new weight to add to the darkness and the silence and it was too much.

* * *

"You here…and you, over there." Chris listened to the fire chief shouting orders to his crew as they cautiously attacked the mountain of debris, propping torn boards and shoring up broken walls.

It was a slow and tedious process. Darkness had fallen now and light fluffy snowflakes floated down, blanketing the site. Crews erected huge lights to aid in the rescue attempt.

Buck, Josiah and Vin helped the firefighters while JD kept the parabolic pointed at the spot where the thermal imaging had confirmed Ezra was located.

Nathan stood with the paramedics while Chris paced back and forth wanting to help with the rescue, but not wanting to give up on the radio. The problem was, Ezra had stopped talking.

The helicopter had arrived just after JD had pinpointed Ezra's location and after only a couple of sweeps over the house, had confirmed it. But the chopper couldn't stay—the vibrations of the blades were too much for the precariously balanced house and the chief had ordered the chopper out of there as soon as it'd gotten a fix on Ezra.

The fire chief had then jumped into the rescue effort, but Chris had been distractedly worried about Ezra. He'd heard Ezra's plaintive "I'm here!" Ezra must have thought that the helicopter leaving meant they had given up on searching for him.

Larabee had heard the hopelessness and pain in Ezra's voice and had no way to reassure his friend that they were there. They were coming for him.

Now, Ezra had stopped talking altogether. There'd been nothing for the last 15 minutes.

Chris knew they'd been fortunate. Even though Ezra had been caught in the destruction, he'd actually been located quite close to the outer edge of the debris. If he'd been any deeper into the building, the fire chief had admitted- it would take hours longer to reach him. As it was—it'd been long enough and Chris could read the deep worry on Nathan's face as Ezra continued to remain silent.

"He's here!"

Chris spun around and was running toward the house. He watched Vin push past two rescuers to get closer to the sudden flurry of activity. Vin knelt and reached down into the debris. Chris watched his lips move and a small worried smile grace his features. Tanner looked up and met Larabee's gaze.

Chris didn't remember getting past the rescue workers, all he knew was that he was suddenly on his knees, reaching down into a dark hole, his hand resting lightly on the side of Standish's neck.

Ezra was alive.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you so much for the reviews. They mean a lot. I'm having a frustrating moment in real life so I'm posting the rest tonight so I can focus on something else._

* * *

Ezra knew he was in trouble. He'd known it from the beginning of course—waking up with a house on top of you makes it kind of obvious after all. But now…now, he was certain he was losing his mind.

One minute he felt as if he was floating, the next, sinking. His body fluctuated rapidly between being numb with cold and burning as if flames were consuming him. And finally, after he'd begun to doubt whether he'd ever actually heard or felt the rumbling noise earlier… now he was just hearing voices.

Ezra knew he should understand what it all meant but his mind just would not work like he wanted it to.

"Easy. Get that board."

"The heat signature indicated he was near here."

"Move that, there. There he is."

The noise grew. The mass of debris surrounding him seemed to bend outward and pull away. Still, Ezra didn't understand.

"He's here! We've got him!"

The noise hurt and he wanted to pull away. He had to get away. He struggled again to move numb and frozen limbs.

"Easy, Standish." They were talking to him. They had found him—was that a good thing? He didn't recognize the voices. Could he trust them? He shuddered as hands touched him.

"Crap, look at his side."

"Get those EMT's over here."

Pain exploded in his side again and Ezra panicked. Instinct kicked in. He had to get away. Heedless of the pain and his body's slow and sluggish response he forced himself to move. He twisted and gasped, fighting the mud and the pain and the darkness but he still couldn't free himself.

"No." he screamed it but his mouth rebelled and only a groan slipped out through cracked lips.

Then, as suddenly as the panic arrived, it was gone.

"Be still, Ezra." It was a quiet whisper, urgent but calming and Ezra recognized it instantly.

Vin.

Familiar hands ghosted over his head and shoulders and he stilled immediately, turning his head, straining to see through the dark.

He felt strong fingers scrape away his muddied hair, a bright light shone steady above him. He could just see Tanner's arm and then another hand was there, gently grasping the side of his neck.

"Ezra."

Chris.

A warm strong hand grasped his frozen fingers and he managed a small smile before he let himself begin to drift. Chris and Vin would take care of him and if they were here…then the rest of the team was too.

He was safe.

* * *

For a moment, Chris was able to ignore the rush of manic activity around him. It was as if everything around him faded as he focused only on Ezra's muddied face, the feel of a slow pulse below his hand and the twitch of ice cold fingers in his grip.

Then the world exploded into noise and colors again as he was pulled back.

"We need you to move." A paramedic pushed by him, unconcerned that Chris wanted to stay where he was.

"I need..." Chris tried but even as he spoke he knew he needed to get out of the way. Ezra was in bad shape. Beneath the layer of mud, Larabee could see the icy blue of the man's skin. Standish was bruised and dehydrated and worst of all, there was a small chunk of wood pinning his lower side to the ground.

Despite the need to stay close to his agent, Larabee allowed himself to be pushed aside. He instead turned his attention to helping where he could. He found Vin beside him as they both pulled back a large chunk of wall and hefted it over and out of the way.

Minutes passed as the paramedics worked. There were so many of them Chris could barely even see Ezra anymore. He watched as an IV was started. He listened as vitals were rattled off and wished he knew more about what it all meant. He worked on clearing debris but he didn't know how they were going to get Ezra out of there…and then suddenly, they were moving.

A backboard was brought in, and in just a matter of moments, Ezra was on it.

Chris could hear Ezra trying to move. He could see the paramedics struggling to keep Standish still. A large bulge packed with bandages still protruded from Standish's side. It told Chris that though they'd managed to free Ezra from the rubble, there was still a long way to go to get him fixed up.

He raced a few paces to catch up with the stretcher and managed to get in between the emergency workers. He found Ezra's hand again.

Behind him he heard Vin shouting to Buck and Josiah to get the trucks and knew the team would follow them. He expected the medics to protest when he climbed into the back of the ambulance with them, but no one questioned him. They told him where to sit, made sure he could still hang onto Ezra and went about their work.

Ezra's eyes flickered open once and Chris found himself wiping mud away with his free hand. Someone pressed a clean cloth into his hand and he muttered a quiet thanks. Gently he cleaned mud from Ezra's eyes and brow, not daring to get in the way of the oxygen mask. Ezra's eyes opened again and met Chris'.

"You're okay now." Larabee leaned closer. "You're gonna be okay, Ezra."


	7. Chapter 7

_Again, Thank you all. And to Vi who waited so patiently for her "christmas present". Hope you enjoyed it!_

* * *

He was warm. It was the first thing Ezra realized. He no longer ached with cold, instead. Instead, he was comfortable. Too comfortable. The kind of comfortable that only comes with good medications. He felt heavy and slow. As if his body was caught in a suspended animation. Slow motion. Could he even move?

"He's waking up."

He recognized the whisper. Nathan was there.

"Ezra?"

And Chris.

He wanted to open his eyes, but they felt so sluggish. He blinked and caught the blurred images. Dim lights, shadowy figures hovering close.

"You're gonna be okay." Nathan sounded sure. He kept talking, but Ezra couldn't hear anymore.

* * *

"A little higher."

"Why? It's perfect where it is."

"Are you kidding? It needs to go a little higher."

"I think it's fine just where it is."

The two voices carried him from the dark. He didn't feel as heavy this time.

"You need more tubing." Another voice.

All familiar. Comforting. Right.

Slowly, he tried to open his eyes. It was easier this time, in spite of the lightness of the drugs. He could still feel it in his system but this time, he could feel the dull ache in his side as well.

It took a moment for his vision to clear. On one side of the bed, in plastic chairs, Vin and Chris sat, both watching the action in the corner with wry grins. On the other side of the bed, Josiah pretended to read a book, but his grin gave him away. Nathan just watched, shaking his head.

Another moment and Ezra could see what everyone else was looking at. In the corner, on the wide sill of the window, sat a two foot tall, obviously artificial tree. The base was circled by three pink plastic kidney bowls and it was wrapped from bottom to top in plastic tubing. A dozen or more latex gloves had been inflated to various sizes and randomly tucked into its branches. A variety of different sized bandages, still in their packaging, had also been tucked into the branches and at the top…

At the top of the tree, Buck and JD were still struggling with the placement of a "star" made out of tongue depressors and medical tape.

Ezra wanted to laugh, but knew it was going to hurt. Instead, he tried to find his voice. "That…is a hideous excuse for a Christmas tree." The words came out low and thick and his throat rasped painfully as he spoke.

The room erupted in movement.

"Ezra!"

He winced as questions came at him all at once and instinctively closed his eyes.

"You feeling better?"

"How long you been awake?"

"Good to see you awake, Brother."

Nathan finally stepped in. "Back off, guys," he reminded, but Ezra could hear the relief in his voice too.

Ezra opened his eyes again to find everyone except Nathan and Chris had backed off. He could hear Buck and JD return to their argument. Vin and Josiah were back in their chairs, but he could tell they were watching him and listening.

"How're you feeling?" Nathan questioned, automatically checking his vitals.

"Drugged," Ezra admitted. "What happened?"

"You got buried under a house," Chris answered simply.

"I was aware of that." When he choked on the words and started coughing, a cup of water, complete with straw, appeared in front of him. He drank greedily.

"Thank you," he managed when he was done. His side ached more now. He grimaced as he settled back into the pillow again.

Nathan patted his hand. "A good sized board pinned you in the explosion. You're lucky it just caught the fatty muscle of your side."

"Fatty?" Ezra questioned with offense. "I am not fat."

"Quit complaining." Chris was laughing at him. "Fact that it had muscle to go through and not internal organs saved your life."

"Fatty," Ezra found himself muttering.

Nathan backed away and sat next to Josiah as Chris leaned a little closer.

"Wanna tell me why you thought it best not to let us know you were called back by Wilson this week?"

Ezra kept his focus on Buck and JD's antics. Not sure how to answer. What could he say now?

"Ezra."

"I just didn't want to stir things up or cause more problems then it was worth."

"Yeah, well…You're an idiot." Chris waited until Ezra looked at him again. "Don't do it again." He patted Ezra's shoulder lightly.

"Finished!" JD announced loudly. "Merry Christmas, Ezra!"

There was a silent pause as everyone sort of stepped back and looked at the tree.

"You're right, Ez," Vin spoke finally.

"It's hideous." Seven voices spoke at once.

Ezra did laugh this time, chuckling softly despite the pain that spread through his side at the motion. It was ridiculous to feel this-right-when in the hospital at Christmas. Hell, he didn't even know if it was still Christmas day or if he'd slept through the entire thing but as he watched Buck and JD stand back and admire their handiwork and listened to the familiar laughter of his friends, he realized it was more than right. It was perfect.


End file.
